


Where Your Destiny Lies

by Little_miss_laughs_alot



Series: The Tip of the Iceberg [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A bit of swearing but not much, Gen, M/M, Retirement AU, SkyGem Retirement Challenge, Unnecessarily dramatic title for what is essentially 5k of fluff, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_miss_laughs_alot/pseuds/Little_miss_laughs_alot
Summary: It's dinnertime!Sequel to Moment of Truth, inspired by SkyGem's Retirement AU





	Where Your Destiny Lies

**Author's Note:**

> First I'd like to say thank you so much for all of the incredibly kind words you all left for me in the comments on Moment of Truth! They were what motivated me to continue this, even though I may have procrastinated a bit, which I apologize for! Life's been a bit nuts lately.
> 
> Second, I really didn't expect this to get this long, and because of this, I didn't reread it as thoroughly as I should have, so please let me know if you notice any grammar/spelling mistakes, or if anything sounds awkwardly worded. Also, I don't actually speak any other language than English, so if you notice anything wrong with how Google Translate worked, please correct me! 
> 
> Please enjoy and leave a comment if you liked it/want to see more!

It was much easier to plan a get-together in theory than in actuality, Morgan mused, fielding texts in the group message while staring at her calendar in desperation.

 

_From: Allison_

_What about the 6th? This weekend_

_From: Yuuri_

_Sorry, competition, we’ll be in Russia :(_

_From: Dylan_

_man don’t make a frowny face about going to Russia- you get to miss lecture with Baldwin on Friday don’t you_

_From: Yuuri_

_:( :( :( :( :( :(_

_From: Dylan_

_no one believes me when I say you can be a sarcastic asshole, you know that right?_

_From: Yuuri_

_:)_

_What about the next weekend? The 13th or 14th_

_From: Toby_

_Y’all are annoying_

_My cousin’s wedding is that weekend, I’ll be in oklahoma_

_From: Allison_

_Damn_

Morgan sighed and started typing.

 

_To: Group: **Too Tired for this {poop emoji}**_

_Are weekends the only time we could do this? How does everyones Thursday nights look?_

_From: Allison_

_I have work.. Wednesday?_

_From: Toby_

_Wed works for me_

_From: Dylan_

_Fine by me-- Yuuri?_

_From: Yuuri_

_Wednesday will work fine for us!_

_To: Group: **Too Tired for this {poop emoji}**_

_Great._

Morgan heaved a sigh of relief, chucking her phone onto her bed and watched as it bounced dangerously close to the edge before stopping just in time. Group messages were helpful to an extent, but she had been ready to mute it if a date hadn’t been decided soon. Though that might have made it worse-- Toby had turned his notifications off for a few hours, which culminated in increasingly dumber memes being sent to him until he broke down and unmuted. (Allison had called them all children, but cheerfully supplied dozens of Kermit pictures to the cause, so she was forgiven.)

 

It had been a day since Gwen had left, two days after they realized that their friend had a much more complicated life than any of them had expected, and they had been trying to plan a time to have dinner together. The main intention was of course, to meet Yuuri’s husband, whose existence they had only just become aware of, but Morgan (and the others, she knew) was looking forward to getting to know Yuuri better. As much as he was an incredibly pleasant person, he was also an incredibly _private_ person. Yuuri was very adept at getting people to talk about themselves while giving minimal information about _himself_ , but still have them walk away with the impression that they had learned a lot more about him than they did.

 

Though, with what she now knew about his life, she understood that a lot better.

 

 

Given that Yuuri lived a half hour away and commuted, while the rest lived on or near campus, they decided to carpool. They swung by Morgan’s family’s house in Ferndale on the way to Yuuri’s to pick up an excited Gwen, promising her parents that yes, she does know it’s a school night, of course she’ll have Gwen back at a reasonable time.

 

They arrived at the address in good time, and Morgan took in the house as she stepped out of the car. It was a moderately sized two-story home, painted light blue. There was a painted _“Be Aware of Dog (she is adorable)”_ sign with a smiling cartoon poodle on it hanging in the front bay windows, and flowers in the garden on either side of the porch steps.

 

“Well, welcome everyone!” Yuuri said when he opened the door, interrupting her observations, looking excited but nervous. “Ah, come in, come in!” He gestured them up the walkway and inside. “I would offer drinks, but all we have is vodka and water, so Victor is stopping at the store on the way home.”

 

They stepped into a small foyer where an assortment of flip flops, sneakers, business shoes, and boots resided. After a brief moment of unsure hesitation, they saw Yuuri’s bare feet and decided to follow his lead, removing their shoes as well, and entered bare or sock-footed, looking around as more of the house revealed itself to them.

 

Pictures and bookshelves lined the walls, and an eclectic collection of blankets and throw pillows covered the couches. The furniture (and house as a whole) was much nicer than any of them were accustomed to, after living in student housing for as long as they had, but it was very homey and comfortable.

  
“I love your house, Yuuri! It’s so cozy,” Allison said, smiling at him. He blushed, but looked pleased.

 

“Thank you, I get cold rather easily, so even after living here for so long, and Russia for a while, Detroit winters are very chilly. We always keep blankets on hand.”

 

“So how long have you lived here?” Toby asked, at the same time that Morgan asked, “How long were you in Russia?”

 

They stopped and stared at each other.

 

Yuuri laughed, and responded once they had repeated their questions one at a time. “I went to Wayne for my bachelors, so I lived in Detroit for five years -- from when I was 18 until I was 23. I returned to Hasetsu for a year, and then we lived in St. Petersburg until I retired in June, and we’ve been here since late July.”

 

Gwen shook her head, amazed. “Wow, the only other country I’ve been to was Canada, and that was an accident, because Morgan got in the wrong lane downtown and crossed the bridge.” Morgan rolled her eyes and blushed.

 

“Who _hasn’t_ done that at least once though?” she asked defensively.

 

Yuuri shook his head, amused by some memory. “You should have seen me when I first arrived here. I’d never lived in a city before; Hasetsu is very small and…” His phone dinged and he checked it. “Ah. Victor is stopping at the store to get drinks; is there anything specific you’d like? Wine, soda, anything. It’s no trouble.”

 

“I’m fine with anything, I’m driving, so I’ll probably stick to water or pop,” Morgan said. “Gwen too, she’s underage.” Gwen frowned in her direction, but Morgan just smirked.

 

“Well I wouldn’t say no to wine or a beer,” said Dylan, to agreement from Toby and Allison.

 

“Great,” Yuuri said, and typed the information into his phone and pocketed it, a trace of a smile on his face.

 

A series of beeps rang from another room, and Yuuri startled, the smile dropping. “Oh excuse me! The food needs checking on. Please sit, look around, make yourselves comfortable! I shouldn’t be long.” He disappeared into what Morgan assumed was the kitchen, and the sounds of pots and pans was followed by an incredible smell wafting through the doorway.

 

“Oh man, I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until now,” Dylan groaned dramatically, plopping onto a loveseat. Morgan sat down on the opposite couch and glanced at the magazines on the coffee table.

 

“Same here,” Allison said, examining the bookshelf with interest. “I have no clue what most of these say,” she noticed, “I can see English, Japanese, Russian, Spanish... French? Geez.”

 

“Aww,” Toby cooed, looking at a picture on the mantle. “He looks so little here! This must be Yuuri’s family. I didn't realize he has a sister.”

 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Gwen squealed, moving to look at it as well “He’s missing his teeth!” she added defensively, apparently realizing how fangirly she had sounded. Morgan raised an amused eyebrow.

 

“I wonder where the dog is,” Dylan wondered, eyeing the dog bed in the corner (next to both the radiator and the window, Morgan noticed) that honestly looked more comfortable than Morgan’s own bed in her apartment.

 

As though summoned by Dylan’s words, a large grey mass of curls ambled slowly into the room, tail wagging.

 

“Holy shit,” Dylan whispered, as though his day had been made. “Come here buddy!” he made kissy-noises, and the dog’s ears perked up, changing direction to make a bee-line for Dylan. It didn’t stop when it got to the couch though-- it jumped up (somewhat laboriously) and collapsed onto Dylan’s lap, who looked like he had been absorbed by a cloud and couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

 

“What’s your name then?” he began foraging in the curls for a collar. “That… is incredibly unhelpful,” he said blankly, blinking at the Russian etching on the tag.

 

“I see you have met Makkachin!” Yuuri laughed from the doorway.

 

“Makkachin,” Dylan repeated questioningly. Yuuri nodded.

 

“She’s so sweet,” Allison said, moving closer and grinning as the poodle licked her hand.

 

“How old?” Toby asked.

 

“Ahh, she’s getting very old, I’m afraid,” Yuuri said sadly. “She’s sixteen, and her hips and eyesight are getting bad, but she still behaves like a puppy as much as she’s able to.” He smiled fondly when Makkachin panted in his direction. “Yes, girl, we’re talking about you.” She wagged her tail excitedly, smacking Gwen across the face as she leaned down to pet her.

 

“I’m going to finish up with the food, and they should be home in a few minutes, then we can get started. I’m sorry to leave you alone,” Yuuri flushed, “I’m afraid I’m not being a good host today, my mother wouldn’t be pleased with me, but I don’t want dinner to burn.” They assured him that all was well, and he relaxed, turning to leave.

 

“Uh, do you think you could show me where the bathroom is?” Gwen asked, uncharacteristically shy. (She had been alternating between total hero-worship and complete nonchalance towards the idea of Yuuri over the past few days, and Morgan had given up on keeping up.)

 

“Oh, of course! Come with me.” Yuuri and Gwen disappeared through the kitchen door, and the others were left on their own again.

Morgan moved to look out the window, appreciating the aesthetics of the tree outlined by the setting sun, when she heard a door open. Makkachin perked up and left the couch, lumbering out of the room, tail wagging. They all looked at each other with anticipation. Here it was, they were actually going to meet Victor, the subject of a dozen or so curious conversations over the last week. Who was the man who made Yuuri blush and smile over texts? (Because even though they may not have noticed the whole “husband” thing, they had all known he was taken. No one who isn't in love smiles that much at their phone) Who was, according to Gwen, the most decorated figure skater of all time? Morgan, and the others as well, felt suitably intimidated.

 

Muffled voices could be heard from the entryway, and the faint sound of soft footsteps came closer. Morgan held her breath in anticipation as… a teenager entered the room.

 

He had blonde hair worn past his collarbone, and a leopard print jacket over leggings and a tshirt, with a bulky duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He walked in, scowling, an expression which deepened when he realized that he was not alone. A beat passed in which the two parties eyed each other, before the boy whirled around and stormed through the door to the kitchen.

 

“ _Katsudon! V dome yest’ lyudi! Kto oni?”_

****

Yuuri’s voice, much quieter and calmer, responded, though Morgan couldn't make out what he said, or even what language it was. The boy’s response however, was loud and clear.

 

“You did _not_ tell me _!”_

 

Another muffled response.

 

“Fine.” The boy re-entered the room and halted, staring at them with blazing blue eyes. “I am Yuri. _Not_ Yurio,” he spoke the name with disgust, “despite what the pig and old man would have you believe.” He glared around the room at them, then yelled back into the kitchen, _“Vy uvereny, chto oni studenty? Oni vyglyadyat glupyy, glyadya na menya.”_

****

Yuuri’s voice came back in response. “Be nice, Yura.” He emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “These are friends from school. Morgan, Allison, Dylan, and Toby. Morgan has a younger sister who is here also, Gwen.” He gestured at the boy. “This is Yurio, he is our son and protege.” Yurio scowled at him, but said nothing.

 

A moment passed, and they all stared at Yuuri in disbelief.

 

“Your son.” Dylan asked flatly. Morgan blinked.

 

Yuuri held his composure for a moment longer, but gave in at the looks on their faces, chuckling. “Kidding, kidding. We do have guardianship over Yurio for legal reasons while we live in America, but Victor and I are his coaches.”

 

Toby exhaled heavily. “You literally almost gave me a heart attack.”

 

The teenaged Yuri scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I'm eighteen. The Katsudon is nine years older than me, how would that work?”

 

Toby shrugged, unfazed by the boy’s abrupt personality. “I don't know, man. I figured they adopted or something. But honestly after finding out your friend is an Olympic medalist, I kind of decided not to be surprised.” A moment of silence passed, then Yuuri turned to Yuri.

 

“Where’s Vitya?”

 

The teenaged Yuri (this was getting confusing, even in Morgan’s head. What had Yuuri called him? Yura? Yurio? She could call him that, she supposed.) rolled his eyes. “Getting bags from the car. He’ll be in shortly.”

 

As if on cue, a voice called, “Yuuri!” and a tall silver blur sped into the room, followed closely by the grey blur she could identify as Makkachin. Yurio instinctively took a step backward, and just in time, for he had been directly in the blur’s path and would probably have been run over if he hadn’t. Yuuri looked incredibly unsurprised at being essentially tackled (Morgan was now able to identify the blur as a tall man with a shock of silver hair) and by some incredible feat of balance, was able to stay on his feet instead of falling backward. He laughed at something the man said, and they kissed hello with smiles on their faces, lost in their little world with arms wrapped around one another.

 

Gwen chose this moment to reappear in the kitchen doorway, and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes gigantic. She made eye contact with Morgan over Yuuri’s shoulder, and mouthed _Oh my god_. Morgan shook her head with amusement, and took the time to take a closer look at Yuuri’s husband. He was tall and slender, and hair that could not be natural. He somehow looked put-together and attractive in athletic clothes (Morgan may not like dating guys, but she sure as hell enjoyed looking at some of them. Noticing her friends’ gazes, it looked like they agreed with that sentiment.)

 

Of course Yuuri had managed to snag a guy that looked like that.

 

The two stayed intertwined for another few moments, before Yura coughed loudly, drawing their attention back to the real world. Yuuri blushed, but Victor grinned. He had incredible blue eyes as well, Morgan noticed.

 

“Ah! Hello! You must be Yuuri’s friends from school! I’m Victor Nikiforov, his husband, I’m so pleased to meet you!” He clasped each of their hands in turn, and once he heard their names, he responded with a comment or question about themselves. After he asked Toby about his cat, who had just recovered from being sick, it was evident that Yuuri spoke of his friends to Victor. Morgan felt a pit of guilt in her stomach as she thought of how little they knew of Yuuri in comparison.

 

Victor turned to Gwen, who was still in the kitchen doorway. “And I understand that you are who I have to thank for motivating my husband to introduce me to all of you, am I right?”

 

Blushing and wide-eyed, Gwen nodded. Victor’s smile widened. “Well then you have my deepest thanks!” he said, pulling her into a hug.

 

He released her, either not noticing or politely not mentioning that Gwen looked as though she was about to have an aneurism, and continued speaking to the room at large. “My Yuuri is too modest to talk about his achievements, I’m afraid, but I am always happy to talk about them for him!” Morgan noticed the others mirroring her excited grin.

 

At this, Yuuri lunged forward, grabbing Victor’s hand and pulling him close to whisper something urgently in his ear. Victor’s eyes widened and his cheeks colored slightly as Yuuri pulled back.

 

Victor blinked and amended his statement, looking sidelong at a strangely satisfied Yuuri. “Ah perhaps another time then. Unless you can convince Yuuri.” Yuuri smiled and kissed his cheek, blushing slightly when Dylan raised a knowing eyebrow.

 

Victor mouthed _Later_ at them, with a wink.

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes fondly. He knew very well what his husband did. “Come, dinner’s ready.”

 

They moved into the kitchen, where the wonderful scents that had been wafting through the doorway intensified, and Morgan’s stomach began growling. Toby groaned quietly, “Holy crap, this smells amazing, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri smiled. “Thank you, I hope it tastes just as good.” Victor set down his shopping bags, taking out a six pack, a bottle of wine, and various types of pop.

 

“Katsudon?” Yurio asked.

 

Yuuri turned. “Yes?”

 

Yurio rolled his eyes. “No, not _you_ Katsudon. You _cooked_ Katsudon.” Yuuri nodded in understanding.

 

“Katsudon is my favorite dish,” Yuuri explained to his friends, gesturing to the food on the stove that was giving off the heavenly smell. “It’s a pork cutlet bowl. I’m afraid it’s not as good as my mom makes, but it’s still quite good, I think.”

 

Victor kissed his cheek. “It’s wonderful, _lyubimyy moy._ ” Yuuri smiled and ducked his head, and Morgan met Allison’s smiling eyes and knew that they were thinking the same thing.

 

“Come on, I’m starving!” Yurio stalked forward and filled his plate, grabbing chopsticks and retreating to the table.

 

“Why does he call you a pork cutlet bowl?” Dylan asked curiously. Yuuri opened and closed his mouth a few times, considering.

 

“Well… The simple explanation is that my name, Katsuki, sounds similar to Katsudon,” Yuuri responded, gesturing for each of them to fill their plates. Dylan turned back to Yuuri, serving himself after Toby finished.

 

“And the not simple explanation?” he asked, eyebrow raised. Yuuri blushed.

 

Yurio snorted. “ _Eros_ ,” he said, as though that explained everything. Yuuri’s blush deepened, and he paused speaking to scoop food into his bowl, joining the rest of them at the table.

 

“Nothing, just an… inside joke, I suppose.” He cast around obviously for a subject change and noticed Toby struggling with his chopsticks. “Oh! Would anyone prefer a fork?” Toby just frowned at his hand.

 

“Honestly, I’ve always wanted to learn to eat with chopsticks, but I can never get it right,” he sighed, staring with envy at the ease with which the two Yuris and Victor controlled their chopsticks. The others occupied various points on a spectrum of success: Dylan seemed to be doing alright (Morgan remembered that he’d mentioned studying abroad in China for a semester during undergrad), and Allison was doing slightly better than Toby (by which Morgan meant that some food, at least, was getting into her mouth). Gwen was struggling at about the same level as Toby, and Morgan was controlling them decently well (all thanks to an incredibly boring Saturday in high school and a WikiHow article).

 

“It’s quite simple actually, if you’re used to it,” Yuuri smiled. “Here.” The next ten minutes were spent with Yuuri teaching them how to use their chopsticks, with Victor and Yurio interjecting at times with varying levels of helpfulness. By the end of it, all were laughing (Yurio would deny it, but Morgan saw a smile on his face) and everyone was getting food into their mouths at least 60% of the time. Makkachin too, seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself, eating everything that was dropped.

 

“It’s better than vacuuming, honestly!” Allison snorted as the dog snuffled under her thigh for a piece of pork that had fallen.

 

“So, Yuuri…” Morgan started, flicking a piece of rice his way, which he dodged, laughing, then looked suspicious at the look on her face. “Tell us something about you. You know so much about us, but I was thinking about it, and even the figure skating aside, you’re really damn private.”

 

Allison snorted at her wording, but nodded. “Yeah, we get why, but we want to get to know you! Like where did you grow up? When did you start skating?”

 

“What’s your family like?” Toby suggested.

 

“When did you meet Victor?” Dylan asked.

 

“Michigan or State?” Allison chipped in, laughing at herself and taking another drink of wine.

 

Yuuri smiled and shook his head, turning to Victor briefly before opening his mouth.

 

“I was born in Hasetsu, Japan, which used to be popular for tourists, but many of the onsens-- hot springs,” he explained, “went out of business. My family owns the last onsen in Hasetsu, Yu-topia Katsuki. I have an older sister named Mari, who used to take me to her ballet lessons, then I started myself very quickly. My teacher, Minako-sensei, recommended that I start to take skating lessons when I was five. I loved it and started competing, and moved to Detroit when I was eighteen so that I could train under Celestino Cialdini to try to make it to the Grand Prix.” He trailed off, unsure of where to go from there.

 

Toby prompted him to continue with, “How did you meet Victor?”

 

Immediately, Yuuri’s face turned bright red. He opened his mouth, but said nothing, looking conflicted.

 

“Champagne and pole dancing,” Yurio cut in abruptly. “And images I can never get out of my head, thank you very much.” Yuuri’s mouth slammed shut and he glared at the teenager, who looked unfazed. Meanwhile, Morgan sat blinking at Yuuri, unsure of how to take that.

 

“Uhh, sorry, what?” Allison asked, staring. “Pole dancing who?”

 

Yuuri groaned, pressing his forehead to the table, ears burning. “Will I never live this down? I was drunk.”

 

Dylan’s mouth spread into a wide grin, a gleam in his eye as he looked at Yuuri. “Do you mean to tell me that Yuuri Katsuki, our Yuuri, met his husband via pole dancing?”

 

Victor grinned and pulled out his phone, but lightning-quick, Yuuri’s hand flashed out and grabbed it from him.

 

“If those pictures get shown to anyone, you are sleeping on the couch, Vitya.” Yuuri’s threat sounded less threatening than it would have, had his face not been pressed to the table. On Victor’s other side though, Yurio slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped through it, slyly passing it over the table, too fast for Yuuri to catch it.

 

“Holy shit!” Dylan laughed in astonishment, and Yuuri’s head snapped up, taking in the scene immediately and glaring at Yurio, who snorted.

 

Yuuri sighed and gave up, reaching for the wine bottle for a refill. “If you are all going to do this, I need to be more drunk than this.” Victor patted his shoulder with a smile, and Yuuri leaned into his side, taking a long drink.

 

Morgan poked her head over Dylan’s shoulder, where the others were already huddled. Gwen’s eyes looked like they were going to explode out of her head at the sight of her idol half-naked swinging around a pole. She squeaked.

 

“Is that Christophe Giacometti?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

 

Victor laughed. “Yes, Chris is a good friend, I’ve known him for a long time.”

 

“So are you friends with a lot of your competitors then?” Morgan asked, wondering. “I’d think that it would be tough to compete at that level against your friends.”

 

“It’s different than you would think,” Yuuri responded thoughtfully, “Yes they’re people we compete-- competed against, but they’re also people that we’ve trained with. My best friend, Phichit, lived with me in Detroit and trained under the same coach as me, but he competed for Thailand and I represented Japan. For a time the three of us,” he gestured at Yurio and Victor, “were competitors. Victor was my coach and my opponent at the same time for a year, as well as my husband.

 

“Yes,” he continued in his quiet way, “we are all competitive, but more than anything, we compete against ourselves. It’s not like… football or tennis. My score has no impact on Yura’s score. Though we all want a place on the podium, if I do well, that doesn’t mean that others did poorly. It’s up to you to push yourself to earn first place, it’s always trying to do better than you did the last time, shaping your own personal strengths to your advantage.” He considered for a second.

 

“Also, we see each other frequently, especially when you get to the international level. You get to see everyone and their programs grow and change with each season and competition, and you are inspired by and learn from each other, so you get to know each other. Besides, who else aside from figure skaters, wants to talk about skating constantly? It works out rather well.” With that, he fell quiet again, leaving Morgan feeling slightly floored.

 

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one go, Yuuri.” Allison said.

 

“So you don’t have some nemesis?” Dylan asked.

 

Yuuri shook his head, grinning. “I can’t say that I do. I’m retired, I no longer compete, and can eat all the katsudon I want.” He took a triumphant bite, savoring the taste, then tilted his head toward Yurio. “But ask Yura about JJ, and you’ll get a different perspective.”

 

The teenager’s scowl deepened. “Mu’dak,” he muttered. Yuuri and Victor exchanged an amused glance.

 

“So…” Gwen started, biting her lip. “I’m sorry if this is rude or awkward or anything, but… caniseeyourolympicmedalsplease?” she spoke in a rush and immediately fell silent, cheeks burning.

 

Yuuri blinked and Victor frowned slightly. When no one responded, she ducked her head. “I’m sorry, it’s fine I was just curious.”

 

“What?” Yurio asked, brows furrowed.

 

“Sorry Gwen, could you repeat that a bit slower?” Yuuri asked, exchanging a confused glance with Victor and Yurio. “I don’t think any of us caught it.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” she murmured.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri smiled gently, seeing how embarrassed she was.

 

“We’re all mostly fluent in English,” Victor explained, “but it’s none of our first languages, so mumbling and fast talking can be tricky sometimes.” Victor went on to relay a few anecdotes of their adventures navigating language barriers, and Gwen’s blush faded as they laughed. Morgan noticed Yuuri looking thankfully at Victor, who winked.

 

“Anyway, what was it that you said?” Victor asked a few minutes later. Gwen’s cheeks colored again, but she took a breath.

 

“I was just wondering… if I could see your medals?” She pressed her lips together to suppress her look of hope. Victor’s smile grew, and Yuuri looked mildly uncomfortable, but nodded.

 

“Of course! Come this way.” Victor led the way, and the others followed. Morgan exchanged a grin with Toby.

 

Down a hallway, they stepped into a remarkably shiny room. Morgan’s jaw dropped. It was a strange mixture of pride (in how the medals and trophies were displayed) and humbleness (the room itself was tucked away, not at the forefront when guests walked in). Dylan, it seemed, had the same thought.

 

“Man, if I was you guys, these would be in the living room, I’d be too proud to tuck them away, this is incredible.”

 

“Ah, but my greatest prize is proudly displayed, is it not?” Victor grinned, pulling Yuuri close to his side and kissing him. Yurio mimed gagging off to the side, but they paid him no mind.

 

Yuuri happily returned the kiss, then smiled innocently when they parted, asking, “You mean your silver medal from Worlds?”

 

Victor mock-pouted but a smile played at the corners of his mouth, “Well that did mean I got to marry you, so I’d say it was worth it.” He kissed Yuuri’s cheek again, making him blush.

 

“Are they always like this?” Morgan heard Allison quietly ask Yurio, whose exasperated sigh answered her question.

 

“ _Postoyanno_. Always,” he amended, when he saw her bemused look.

 

“What do you mean you got to marry him because of a silver medal?” Toby asked, looking at the two curiously. Gwen stifled a giggle, waving a dismissive hand at Morgan when she turned to look.

 

“ _It’s a cute story, I remember hearing about it,_ ” she whispered.

 

“Vitya,” Yuuri raised an eyebrow at his husband, “decided that we weren’t getting married until I won gold, so when I beat him at Worlds, he wasn’t too upset about it.”

 

“How could I have been upset about a silver medal when it meant that I was going to marry the most incredible man in the world?” Victor asked, and Yuuri’s cheeks colored. “Anyway,” he continued, “I did win in a sense, because all of the programs I choreographed were on the podium!” Yuuri jabbed him in the side lightly with his elbow, and Victor acted wounded until Yuuri pecked him lightly.

 

“Go ahead and look around,” Yurio rolled his eyes at Yuuri and Victor. “Those are Victor’s, those are Yuuri’s, and those are all mine.” He pointed to each section in turn, then spun to leave, responding to Yuuri’s question about his destination with a huff and a “Skyping Beka.”

 

“Ice your wrist, Yura! You don’t want it to hurt this weekend!” Victor called after the teenager, who answered by waving a single finger as he left.

 

“He hurt his wrist?” Yuuri asked. Victor nodded.

 

“He tried to do his quad flip, even though I told him to wait until this growth spurt settled down, and landed hard.”

 

Yuuri sighed. “We’ll all be glad once puberty’s finished with him.” Victor made a noise of agreement, then turned to their guests, who were pretending not to be listening to their quiet conversation.

 

“Gwen, Yuuri tells me that you skate?” Gwen’s face went up in flames, but she nodded.

 

“I’m just on the team for my high school, nothing too special, but yeah.”

 

“Nonsense! How long ago did you start?”

 

“Uhh, three years ago?” Gwen said, biting her lip. “I… saw Yuuri’s free skate at the Grand Prix in Spain-- his ‘Yuri on Ice’ performance, and started skating lessons as soon as I could after that, then joined the team the year after.”

 

Victor grinned proudly. “My Yuuri did amazing, didn’t he!” Yuuri blushed, but the others all nodded.

 

“Gwen showed us all the video-- he really did.” Allison said with a smile.

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at his husband, and Victor smiled in response.

 

“You know,” Victor mused, “We own the rink in town. Yura practices there, and Yuuri teaches lessons to the community when he isn’t busy with school or Yura.”

 

Yuuri continued where Victor left off, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “You are welcome to come by, and if your team is interested, I’m sure we could arrange something.” Gwen looked as though Christmas had come early.

 

“ _Holy shit_ ,” she breathed. “I mean, wow, um that would be incredible, oh my god.”

 

Yuuri leaned back into Victor, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “If you give us your coach’s information, we can work something out, I’m sure. And,” Yuuri continued, “If any of you want to skate sometime, just let me know.”

 

A few more minutes of aimless conversation passed, and Morgan and the others wandered around the room, looking at the dozens upon dozens of medals. She smiled when she noticed a picture frame with Yuuri and Victor kissing at what must have been their wedding, displayed on the wall a foot or so above their other achievements.

 

Eventually they moved out to the living room for dessert and drinks, and they sat, laughing at some story Victor was telling, gesturing with vigor. Morgan took a sip of her Coke and smiled at how Yuuri and Victor leaned into each other, Makkachin flopped across both of their laps. Every once in awhile, they would make eye contact and seem to hold a conversation completely separate from the voiced one going on for the rest of the room.

 

Morgan was, not for the first time, amazed at their ability to speak with no words. Between them, they spoke (at least) three languages with familiarity. And yet the most was said without words. With the touch of a hand or a meaningful glance, there was no language barrier, no translation needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (at least from what Google told me):
> 
> “Katsudon! V dome yest’ lyudi! Kto oni?” There are people in the house! Who are they?
> 
> “Vy uvereny, chto oni studenty? Oni vyglyadyat glupyy, glyadya na menya.” Are you sure they're students? They look stupid, staring at me like that.
> 
>  
> 
> \----------
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you did, and let me know if you want to read more! 
> 
> I can't promise it'll be up anytime soon because a lot of life things are happening and my motivation to write isn't as strong when I don't have anything else to procrastinate doing, but please let me know and give me ideas!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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